


Dinner and Drinks

by AngryPirateHusbands, Magnetism_bind



Series: It's Worth a Shot [2]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-03-03 00:57:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13330101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryPirateHusbands/pseuds/AngryPirateHusbands, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: In which Flint and Silver share a balcany, cigarettes, and a good old fashioned heart to heart.





	1. Chapter 1

The next morning John woke first. The light stealing through the room was soft, and he was so warm and comfortable, he half thought he was still dreaming. As he shifted slightly he heard a sleepy murmur off to his left. He opened an eye and saw James snoring softly. It was real. John gazed at him in silent disbelief.

After that night, after everything, he needed a moment by himself. He started crawling down under the blankets, hoping to be able to slip out of bed without waking the sleeping parties. He was nearly to the bottom of the bed and had just stuck his head out from the blankets when he heard- “John?”

John sat up slowly, the bedsheet and comforter sliding down his shoulder as he swiped the mess of curls from his face. "Uh," was all he was able to manage at the moment.

James blinked down at him with a questionable look in his eyes. "What?" he asked before moving to rub the sleep from his eyes. "What--?" he settled on, giving up as he was apparently just as tired as he.

“Um.” John said again, “I was just going to the...” He jerked his head in the direction of the bathroom.

“M'aright.” James mumbled finally.

“Good?” John said, pushing himself out from the last tangle of blankets and landing on the floor with a slight thump. “I mean. Okay.”

“Just go piss," came a mumble from the direction of Thomas. “James will put the coffee on.”

James grumbled nonsensically, apparently not appreciating how he had been volunteered. Just as he was about to turn over and fall back asleep Thomas kneed him in the back.

 "For Christ's sake," James swore beneath him breath. "Fine."

He wiped the last stubborn remnants of sleep from the corner of his eyes before tossing aside the sheets and climbing out of bed.

John couldn't help the way his gaze dragged over his body. He had been able to appreciate it well enough the night before, the lean muscle and supple flesh sprinkled with freckles, but in the warm morning light... Well. Let's just say it was fortunate James caught onto his staring before he had the chance to say something stupid.

"You alright?"

John's tongue reached out to wet his lips as he nodded, but not before offering one of his brilliant smiles. "Of course." He reached for his prosthetic then, eager to get dressed before something else could distract him.

James gave him another look but John was busy attaching his leg so he gave a little shrug and reached for a robe, pulling it on over his shoulders but not bothering to tie it before leaving the bedroom.

John started to head for the bathroom when Thomas spoke again from the pillows.

“Come back to bed when you’re done.”

“He’s already gone to make the coffee.” John told him.

 “I know.” Thomas’s voice was sleepy but confident as ever. “I was speaking to you.”

John stalled, the flush of heat unmistakable as it crept up his neck to darken his cheeks. He didn't answer. Even if he wanted to, Thomas' words had left his tongue tied. He was quite accustomed to one-night stands and meaningless booty calls. After all, they served as the majority of his experiences as of late. But this..? This was distinctly different. Not only had he spent the night, a rare occurrence on its own, but he had done so enveloped by two sets of arms. And even now, neither seemed to be in a hurry to be rid of him.

"So..." John began. He wasn't usually one to trip over his words, and the fact that it had to happen now had his eyes shutting in frustration. "Can I use your shower?"

Thomas' amusement could be heard in his tone as he answered. "Of course." Thomas considered asking if he wanted company but sensed that John needed some time to regroup. So he left it there and simply laid there in bed, waiting for James to return with the coffee.

“Here we are.” James returned with two mugs. “John in the shower?”

“Mmm, yes.” Thomas took a cup gratefully. “Thank you, my love.”

James sat at the end of the bed, thumbing at the lip of the mug. “Shall I take this to him?”

“Yes,” Thomas nodded.

James leaned in to steal himself a quick kiss, reveling in the taste of Costa coffee that clung to his lips, before standing. When he reached the bathroom he didn't hear the telltale patter of water from the shower. Good, he hadn't hopped in just yet. James knocked twice on the door as he leaned back against the frame.

 "Hey John?" he called, "How do you take your coffee?" He was just combing a rogue lock of hair behind his ears when the door opened. Seeing John like this, with nothing but a towel around his waist, was a pleasure James hadn’t expected to enjoy this much. John still looked like he was half asleep as he gazed at James, curls tousled, a yawn still on his lips.

“Thomas said I could use the shower,” John offered hesitantly.

“Of course., James told him. “I just thought this might help.” He held out the coffee.

“Oh, god, yes,” John reached for it immediately, his fingers stroking over James' so intimately, so naturally, that James almost didn’t catch the gesture. He was too busy watching John savor that first taste of his coffee.

John peered over the lip of his mug, apparently unable to ignore that prolonged gaze any longer. "What is it..?" he asked, brows slightly furrowed in uncertainty.

"Mmmhm?" James asked in a distracted tone. "What did you say?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?" John asked and his tone caused James to chuckle faintly.

 "I'm looking at you like _that_ because you look..." He doesn't have a word for how John looked right now. Cute was a possibility but he felt it was a little too early in the morning to be tossing around terms like that. Irresistible came to mind, though.

John was still waiting for an answer and James couldn't help himself. "Irresistible," he told John in a serious tone.

John blinked at him. "Are you fucking with me right now?"

 "Not even remotely." James told him very softly and leaned down to kiss him. Just a brief kiss across John's lips, half-parted in bewilderment at James's words. James couldn't help but enjoy the fact that both Thomas and John tasted like his favorite coffee this morning. "Take your shower. There'll be more coffee when you're done."

John merely blinked up at him. "Uhm..."

The pause gave James a chance to remember something else he had wanted to ask of him. Before Thomas' knee had met the center of his back, and before he had become so distracted by the towel hanging low on John's hips. "Do you want anything in particular on your omelet?" James wondered. "I usually add green bell peppers, ham and-- What?"

John's face had scrunched up in a rather horrible expression. "No ham," John said with a visible shudder. "Please," he quickly added then.

James' mouth twitched upwards in a slight smirk. "Don't like pork?"

"Let's just say I had a bad experience once and leave it at that." John shuddered again.

 "Does even the smell bother you?" James asked curiously, for he tended to enjoy bacon with his omelet.

“Bacon is usually all right." John said after a moment. "Just...make what you usually make. I'm fine really."

 "But I asked you what you preferred." James reminded him. It was his turn to wonder why John was gazing at him like that. It was the usual thing to ask what someone preferred on their eggs, after all and John was looking at him like James was offering him something extraordinary.

 "Peppers and onions sound great." John said finally.

"Peppers and onions it is." James said. "Finish your coffee before it gets cold."

At this John actually smiled. Not that cocky flash of white teeth, but something softer and far more genuine. The kind of smile he had witnessed time and time again just last night. And just as it did then, it sent a familiar warmth spreading through his chest. It only took John a few moments to polish off the rest of his coffee.

Once he had the cup was pressed back into his hand, this time James allowing his own touch to linger. And then there it was, those perfect lips melding against his own once more. Soft and sweet and far too fleeting, and followed by the door clicking shut in his face.

James closed his eyes, unable to help the grin that spread across his face as he rested his forehead against the door. The shower started not moments later and he wrested himself away from the door. When he returned to their room Thomas was smirking up at him.

James set the mug down on the bedside table and threw himself on the bed beside Thomas, stretching out with a sigh. "Pretty pleased with yourself, aren't you?" He murmured into the curve of Thomas's shoulder.

"And why shouldn't I be?" Thomas's fingers stroked gently through his hair. "If I hadn't nudged you towards him last night, you'd still be staring at him longingly from across the room."

"I did not stare longingly." James muttered.

 "Pined like a dog in heat?" Thomas offered instead, causing James to jab him not-so-gently in the ribs with his elbow. "Ow."

 "Let me just say 'thank you' and leave it at that." James suggested.

 "So you're admitting it is thanks to me." Thomas's smirk returned.

 James sighed. "Yes." He leaned up and kissed Thomas's lips. "Thank you, my darling."

Thomas's hand slid down to cup his backside, pulling James atop him as he deepened the kiss, just enjoying James's body resting against his.

James' eyes fell shut, his lips parting easily beneath the press of Thomas' wandering tongue. Already he could feel that spark of heat form deep within his gut. He would never tire of just how swiftly his body reacted to Thomas' touch. Time and time again, the taste of his lips and the press of his hands was more than enough to render his body warm and pliant, and aching for more.

 Only this time there was a guest in their home; one that couldn't possibly be forgotten. A groan of protest rose from the back of Thomas' throat when he broke away, and James only smirked.

 "Come on," he coaxed, sliding off him. "I promised John breakfast."

"I suppose I can't possibly object to that." Thomas rolled over and sat up with a yawn. "I did use that as enticement for his staying the night, after all." He pulled on his own robe and followed James down the hall to the kitchen where he poured more coffee.

"About last night." James hesitated. Should they give it more time before they discussed it? Should they wait until after John was gone to do so? He didn't want to do that. He had the strangest feeling as though John would slip through their fingers if they let him leave now without some sort of solid plan in place.

"Mmm?" Thomas asked when he added nothing further. "James, you were saying?"

"I'd like to..." James began, then started again. "Don't you think we should...."

 "Should what?" Thomas took a sip of coffee and waited patiently for whatever it was he was trying to say. Thomas had an inkling, of course, but he did want James to admit it aloud.

"....Don't you think we should ask him out again?" James finished at last.

Thomas smiled teasingly, that same mirth alighting his eyes. "You think he's a flight risk?"

James snorted as he dug through the fridge, balancing the carton of eggs, half n' half, and other ingredients in his arm until he could reach the counter. "I wouldn't exactly put it like that," he groused.

 "Then how would you put it?"

James scowled slightly as he grabbed a pan and cracked two eggs over it. Finally he managed to reach an answer, though when it was given it was done so with an air of defeat. "Fine, we'll put it that way."

 Thomas smiled as he took another sip of his coffee. Sometimes James made it far too easy to tease him. "So what do you suggest?" he asked then, moving to cut up some of the peppers James had shoved in his direction.

James shrugged. "I don't know... Is a dinner date after fucking a little too weird?"

"A _date_?"

 "Oh, shut up."

Thomas smirked, eventually throwing the chopped ingredients into a bowl. "Well, what about that Spanish place? We haven't been there in a while."

James considered the suggestion while he cooked the eggs. It was slightly more formal than the bar where John worked, but not so much that it would be intimidating to the younger man. "I think that would work," he said at last. "What about Thursday night?"

 "Sounds good to me." Thomas handed him the bowl. "Do you want to do the honors or shall I?"

"Do the honors of what?"

Despite the prosthetic leg, neither James nor Thomas had heard John's approach. They both turned to him now, taking in the damp curls that spilled just past his shoulders and the brow that was arched in curiosity. Thomas gave James a look and, when it was met with a shrug, decided to pop the question. Despite the man's stern countenance, he could be quite shy. It was just one of the many reasons why Thomas loved him.

 "Well," Thomas began as he poured the man a fresh cup of coffee. "James and I were just discussing how we'd like to take you out to dinner."

At this John visibly paused. "Dinner?" he repeated, as if the suggestion were ludicrous.

 "Mhm. It'll be a nice place."

 "But only semi-formal," James interjected before shooting Thomas a look. "This Thursday."

"But if you have to work, we can be flexible."

John paused, looking from one to the other with a deep line of contemplation creasing his forehead. A curl lolled over his brow and he brushed it back automatically, still thinking. “Thursday....would probably work. I’d have to check my schedule but...”

“Check your schedule and let us know.” Thomas suggested. “James can make the reservation.”

 “I hope you like tequila.” James offered, wanting to have some part in the invitation but still hesitant somehow, in spite of the yearning inside of him. He still had a faint concern, even though John had practically accepted, that this would be the end of it.

“Who doesn’t like tequila?” John grinned at him.

The grin relaxed James somewhat and he gestured John to a seat at the kitchen island. “Ready for breakfast?”

"Oh, god yes," John exclaimed with a hop onto one of the stools. "Fucking starving."

James cast Thomas a glance as a pang of guilt rocked through his chest. The two of them had had dinner at the bar last night; neither of them had even considered the prospect that John hadn't eaten.

 Yet John didn't seem to mind, that grin pulling at his lips even as the plate was slid infront of him. He dug in immeidately, and a few moments later an overzealous "MhhhMM" was given to show his apparent approval.

“Good, I take it?” Thomas inquired, a faint smile on his lips. He loved seeing people experience James’s cooking for the first time.

 “Are you shitting me?” John licked his lips. “This is delicious.”

 “Anyone can follow a recipe.” James muttered.

“That,” Thomas pointed at him, “is patently untrue.”

"I would have to agree with you there," John said with a similar jab of his fork.

James merely rolled his eyes as he turned back towards the skillet. Just like Miranda, John seemed perfectly content in helping Thomas gang up on him. Not that he could say he particularly minded... As he now went about fixing breakfast for both himself and Thomas, he couldn't help but hear the pinging of a phone. The sound was unfamialr, so it must have been John's.

After the fifth chirping noise --something that honestly bordered on annoying-- he simply had to ask. "Everything alright?"

 "Yeah.." John had fished the phone from his pocket. His brows were drawn as he scrolled through the texts. "It's just Max," he explained. He smiled a bit then. "I usually dont spend the night. Shes just making sure I didnt accidentally go home with two handsome serial killers."

“Mmmm,” Thomas smiled at him. “Please give her my fondest and tell her we’ll send you home in one piece.”

 “Is that a promise?” John said without looking up from his phone.

 “Unless you want us to hold you captive.”

At that John looked up and so did Thomas for the words had come from James this time.

 “Is this a plan I should be worried about?” John inquired.

“No.” James said and then grinned.

John shook his head. “I’m not telling Max that. She’d take it seriously and tell you to fuck off or worse.”

“I like her already.” Thomas murmured.

John chuckled. “You say that now.” He reached for his coffee mug and eyed it sadly. “I don’t suppose there’s any more.”

Thomas hummed. "Unfortunately not. But I can certainly make some more if you would like."

John thought for a moment before shaking his head. "Nah, that's okay.. I should probably be heading out, anyway."

“Are you sure?” James asked. It was Sunday and he was looking forward to a leisurely day spent with Thomas, reading, then possibly taking a walk in the park if the afternoon was nice. But he wasn’t entirely ready to say goodbye to John yet, either. In spite of his acceptance of their date invitation, that faint shred of concern still lingered.

“Yeah.” John rose to his feet. “I have some errands to see to before I head to the bar, and I did promise Max I’d be in early to make up for skipping out last night.”

James hoped the disappointment wasn't evident in his expression.

Thomas, at the least, sensed his thoughts just as he always did and rested his hand against the small of his back. "We understand."

John offered a curt nod before glancing back down at his phone. "Oh. Thursday should be fine, by the way."

"Excellent," Thomas chirped. "Give James your number and one of us will text you the time of our reservation. He shot the man a wink before nudging James with his elbow, coaxing him to hand his own phone over.

John grinned at him as he entered his number and passed it back. James couldn’t help looking immediately to see where his name was. It wasn’t under John or Silver for that matter. He scrolled through his contacts and stopped. “Bartender Hottie. Really?”

John gave him another grin. “That way you’ll remember me.” He started down the hall to find his coat from the night before.

“Did you think we were in danger of forgetting?” James couldn’t help following. “We told you, we hadn’t done this before.”

 “Right.” John pulled his coat on, zipping it up quickly. “You did.”

James watched him. “Do you think we were lying?”

“What?” John looked at him, startled. “No. No, it's just..." After a moment John shook his head on a sigh. Reaching up, he scratched at the back of his head. "I've done one-night stands before. I know how this typically goes, even if you don't."

James swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. "What is that supposed to mean?" Despite himself, his tone held a sharp edge.

John shifted slightly on his feet, apparently warring with what to say. Finally he settled on something. "Staying the night, being asked to dinner, exchanging numbers... _This_ part is new to me." When James didn't say anything John offered a meek shrug of his shoulder. "I don't know what else to say."

"Look, if you just don't want to go out, all you have to do is say that." James said, slightly testily. "There's no need to--"

 "That's not what I meant," John started.

"That's not what he meant at all, James and you know it." They both turned to see Thomas leaning in the doorway, watching them. "John is right. A fair percentage of one night stands do not end with a dinner invitation. However," He tilted his head slightly towards John. "This one does. So if John would like to go out......"

"Yes." John said after a moment's glance at James.

"Then we'll consider Thursday a date." Thomas smiled and came closer. "Now if you don't mind, I'll say _au revoir_ so I can pop in the shower. That is, if you two can be trusted to not break the date again if I do."

John smiled. "I promise, at least."

 "Good." Thomas leaned down and kissed him briefly on the lips. "Till Thursday, then."

"Thursday," John echoed.

Once Thomas disappeared up the stairs John moved a bit closer, his hands stuffed deep into his coat pockets. "Do I get a goodbye kiss from you as well?" he asked wryly, a tired smile on his lips. "Or are you going to stay angry with me for a while longer?"

"I'm not angry." James protested. "I simply....want to make sure you want to be here. That's all." John's brow furrowed again and by this time James couldn't tell if he liked it, or if he was just growing used to seeing it --or causing it, for that matter.

"Of course I want to." John said slowly and for once James believed that statement, even though he still sensed there was something John was holding back.

"I want to," John repeated, and so James took him at his word and reached down to kiss him.

Their mouths met eagerly, a little too quickly for just a brief farewell, and James had to remind himself that he would see John again. That this would not be the last time. For now his lips would cling to this memory of John leaning into him, his breath a soft sigh against his skin as they finally drew apart. Still, John seemed unwilling to completely break their contact in this moment. His fingers clasped the front of his shirt, tugging lightly as his gaze lowered in thought. Just as he was about to speak up and make sure he was okay, John looked back up at him with that convincing smile.

"I'll see you Thursday," John murmured.

Even as he spoke James couldn't help the feeling in his gut. The one that made his mouth go dry and his gaze linger as he searched John's features for a hint of a lie. "I look forward to it."

At this John's smile melded into something warmer. Something genuine. And James couldn't help but steal the sight away into his memory, just in case. Leaning forward he placed a kiss atop John's forehead, noting how the man leaned into it, before withdrawing once more.

"Oh, shit." Somehow, the thought hadn't occurred to James earlier. "Do we need to call you a cab?"

John's grin only widened. "No, that's okay. There's a bus stop right down the road."

“Thomas would be disappointed in me if I sent you home on the bus.” James declared.

 “Well, you’re gonna have to live with that.” John told him, slightly amused. “The bus is fine.”

 “John.” James started to keep at it and then he subsided. “Very well.”

“Thought you were going to argue a lot more than that.” John grinned. “Being so chivalrous and all.”

“I’ll be chivalrous and kiss you once more before you go.” James reached for him again.

This time when they came together there was a heat that rung reminiscent of last night. Their mouths slotted together perfectly, John's lips parting as he practically melted against him. And God, how it drove James wild. The weight of him pressed flush against his chest, the warmth that radiated off of him. When they finally broke apart James had to remind himself to breathe. John was peering up at him through hooded eyes, that goofy smile still on his face.

"So yeah." John cleared his throat. "I'll be seeing you."

James nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak for fear he would again make the offer of calling a taxi or worse, cling to John and ask him again to stay. Instead he saw him to the door and watched him walk down the pavement, give a jaunty wave at the gate and head off down the street. James drew in a deep breath and closed the front door. His forehead thumped against it moments later. This wasn't good... The heat that resided not only deep in his belly, but in his chest as well. He shouldn't be craving the man this much, this soon. For fucks sake, last night was the first time they had ever spoken. He hadn't even known his name before that. And yet here he was, wishing for nothing more than to secret John away with he and Thomas, and never let go.

With a frustrated sigh James thumped his head against the door. Not just once, but twice for good measure. He shouldn't be concerning himself with such things right now. He could spend the entire week exploring hundreds of different scenarios that this could end badly, and nothing good would come from it. He needed to clear his head. To be with Thomas and cast aside his worries, and to show him just how much he loved him.

He went upstairs to find Thomas finishing up in the shower. "Shall I make more coffee?" James called out.

"Yes, please." Thomas wrapped a towel around him. "Did John get off all right?"

"Yes." James said absently, ignoring the obvious innuendo. He stripped off his robe and left it on the foot of the bed, passing Thomas as he headed for the shower.

Thomas grazed his hand over his hip in an affectionate gesture. "Everything's all right, isn't it?"

James blinked. Just as always, Thomas' soothing touch was more than enough to coax him free of his thoughts. "Yes," he finally offered, that concerned gaze having reminded him that Thomas was still awaiting an answer. "Yes, of course." He smiled then, that predatory wolfish grin few ever got to see. "Though I was hoping you'd wait before hopping in the shower. I was actually hoping to join you."

"Mmm, you should have been quicker then." Thomas teased, heading into the bedroom to get dressed. "Don't you want to go for a walk?"

 "Are you saying I can only have one or the other?" James called as he stepped into the shower. "That's hardly fair, making me choose." The words, spoken without thought, reminded him of the emotions stirred by John and he quickly turned on the water, ducking his head under the spray. He washed himself quickly, focusing only on the hot water against his skin. To his surprise, when he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower Thomas was right there waiting for him.

 "Are you certain you're alright?" Thomas asked, handing him a towel.

James shrugged as he began to towel off his hair. "Yeap," he offered. Then out of curiosity, "Why?"

"Well," Thomas began decidedly, "For starters, you never say 'yeap' when everything is, in fact, okay. Not to mention you have that look on your face."

"It's just my face," James mumbled with a scowl.

"Yes, I know it's your face." Thomas said patiently. "I happen to be intimately acquainted with it, remember?"

James shrugged, rubbing the towel over his hair a bit harder. "So what's your point?"

"My point, is....if something's wrong, I like to think you'd tell me."

"Of course." James hung the towel around his shoulder. "You know that."

"Mmm, I like to think so."

The muscle in James' jaw jumped reflexively. After a moment he swallowed, his eyes turning downcast. "Do you truly want to know what's wrong?" he finally asked, albeit a bit defiantly.

"Of course, James..."

"Nothing," James managed. "Nothing here feels wrong.. And it should, shouldn't it? John is a practically a perfect stranger. But it doesn't. It feels... Familiar."

"...Like with Miranda," Thomas finished softly.

“That.” James finished, staring at the wall. “I want to welcome him into our lives and it’s too soon, it’s wrong.”

 “Is it actually wrong, or do you think that’s what people will say?” Thomas asked curiously.

“I don’t give a shit what people think and you know that. I care if it is.. in fact, disrespectful to her memory. I just...” He sighed.

 “Why don’t we see how Thursday goes and take it from there?” Thomas suggested gently.

“Yeah, you’re right, that makes sense.”

“James?” He lifted his eyes to meet Thomas’s unusually serious for once gaze.

“Yeah?”

“I want to welcome him too.”

James saw the truth of it right there in his eyes. He heard it in the gentle lilt of his voice, and felt it as Thomas tenderly pressed a kiss against his hair. A gesture he himself had shared with John just minutes prior. It was one of affection and longing, but of tenderness as well.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

The next few days passed by at a grueling pace. After James made the reservation and texted John the details, he had to fight tooth and nail to leave it at that. He didn't want to bother John, certainly, especially not if he happened to be at work. But more than that he was afraid. Not only of seeming too interested and perhaps even desperate, but of diving in too fast. The text had been answered, of course, a little over an hour later. Not too late, but not soon enough to immediately quash James's doubts, either. It simply said. ~ _looking forward to it_. ~ and James had to content himself that that would be enough. For now at any rate.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. Only four days, not even a whole week to get through and it felt interminable. James found himself grateful that it was nearly winter break, but really he should have been focusing on his students rather than a possible.....what was John when it came down to it? An affair? A possible lover? A....partner? Perhaps a true partner in every sense of the word? And there, again James had to remind himself not to rush ahead with things, to let them take their course. Still, the hope fostered and grew within him all the same.

And that just made it hurt all the more when, by the time Thursday evening finally came, John was nowhere to be found.

James hadn't realized how intently he'd been staring at the empty seat until Thomas' voice woke him from his reverie.

"James."

James swallowed thickly before lifting his gaze. Thomas was peering at him from across the table, the concern clear in those blue depths. But it wasn't that which caused a lump to form in his chest. No, it was the hurt that lingered beneath it all.

"Still no answer?"

James turned the phone over in his hands. He didn't even need to look to know that his texts, two to be exact, had gone unanswered. Yet he did anyway. The "seen" tick mark beneath them both seemed truly mocking in this moment. "No," he finally managed to spit out.

Thomas' shoulders visibly slackened as he released a gentle breath. "I see..." he nodded.

That expression full of defeat was the last straw. James wasn't particularly fond of being stood up, but when such an insult extended to Thomas... That he could not accept, not without an explanation. There had to be a good reason. There _had_ to be.

 "I'm calling him." James was already dialing before the words even finished leaving his mouth. He stood from his seat, already excusing himself so thàt he wouldn't bother the other patrons with a phone call. And with what might be a heated one, at that. Yet it seemed unnecessary, as after two rings he was sent straight to voicemail. James released an unsteady breath. He stared down at the screen, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he ended the call the moment that lone beep met his ears. "He isn't coming."

"Well then," Thomas offered, gesturing for him to sit back down, "We'll just have to enjoy this evening ourselves, just the two of us."

Despite the smile that teased at his lips, James knew him far better than that. He saw the disappointment that creased his brow, the hurt that weighed heavily in his gaze. And God, how it stung. James took a deep breath, allowing himself to take stock of the matter. It was insulting yes, disappointing, yes that too. But he wanted to know _why_ , damnit. If it had truly been too much for John to handle, surely he could have told them that. A simple text of 'I'm sorry but a follow-up-date won't work' would have sufficed. No, that was a lie, even to himself. James would have wanted to know more, even then. But he would have made do with such a ending, if that had been the case. But _this_. His jaw tightened.

"Hold the table." He said to Thomas and turned to stalk out of the restaurant. The bar was only a few blocks away. He'd get John, and he'd have an explanation out of before the night was over. More than that, he'd have an apology, the apology owed to Thomas for going to all this effort for a man who didn't even have the decency to admit he didn't want to go out with them.

Only when the taxi door had slammed shut and the name "Nassau's" given to the driver did James realize just a gamble this all was. For all he knew John wasn't even at the bar tonight. And what's more, he doubted that curt woman --Max, if he remembered correctly-- would be at all inclined to help him get in touch. John himself had warned then that she was protective, and if he didn't want to see them, then she would make it so. The resolve that had burned in her eyes had insinuated as much. So, it was entirely possible that This entire endeavor might come to an end with nothing to show for it. Maybe he would never get his answers. Maybe John would never be seen again. Somehow that thought was enough to to stem the anger boiling beneath his skin and replace it with something equally familiar: Fear.

By the time the taxi arrived at the car James was convinced John had probably left town on emergency personal business without time to bid anyone farewell. He had convinced himself so thoroughly that when he actually entered the bar and spotted the familiar dark head at the bar he felt an entirely different emotion at first, pure and utter relief. It lasted half a moment before the anger returned. John was just there, business as usual, as though nothing had ever happened.

Anger surged in James' chest as he approached the bar with a steady, imposing stride. Placing his hands on the counter, he gazed levelly at John, daring him to speak. Somehow his presence went unnoticed, if only for a moment. John was otherwise engaged with one of the patrons, and that sickeningly charming smile was on his lips. Only now James could recognize that it wasn't genuine, that it was little more than a facade. Not that it much mattered, for the second John noticed his presence it disappeared without a trace.

John's eyes were wide and his jaw slack, almost as if he had appeared out of thin air. After a breath of hesitation John wet his lips before finally managing to find his voice. "James... I, uh-- What are you doing here?"

James smiled, a smile that was neither welcoming nor pleasant. It was the smile that he had used to great effect in his naval days on the rare occasions that men would fail to follow his orders. He used it to a lesser degree these days when his students were attempting to bullshit their way through a class.

"Why don't you tell me?" His voice was low, dangerous, still daring John to actually look him in the eyes and tell him the truth.

In retrospect, James probably shouldn't have felt such deep satisfaction when John's Adam's apple bobbed with a thick, nervous swallow. Yet he did, and again when those eyes flitted away from his own.

"Could we perhaps continue this conversation in private?" John finally dared, his head tilting towards the man seated at the counter. He was a rather built-looking fellow, with short blond hair and bulging muscles, and seemed entirely too interested in their exchange. James shot him a look before gesturing to John to lead the way.

He followed John into a back room. it wasn't until the door was closed behind them that John turned to face him.

 "Look, James....I..." John's voice faltered when he looked up at James and then again away. When he remained silent, just staring at the floor, a miserable tic to his jaw, James couldn't hold back any further.

"Well?" He demanded. "What do you have to say?"

John remained silent, his jaw clenching tighter.

"You're really not going to say anything?" James's lip curled in disgust. "I suppose I shouldn't have expected too much from a man who would let us just sit there, waiting for him."

At this John's eyes snapped upwards. The uncertainty that had existed there mere moments ago was gone, replaced instead with a defensive glare. "I didn't think the two of you would actually be there."

James scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You can't be fucking serious," he bit out. This man was truly unbelievable. "How stupid do you think I am?"

 "It's the truth," John snapped back. "You have any idea how many assholes have stood me up, pretending to be courteous after fucking me and getting what they wanted!?"

"Oh, I'm sure." James sneered. "Men must go to great lengths to get you into bed."

 "You should know." John's lips twisted bitterly. "Your husband and you put quite a show for me after all."

James took a step towards him, his gaze narrowing. "You little shit."

 "Look, I'm sorry if you went to any trouble, but I had no way of knowing that invitation was real."

"You seriously expect me to believe that's why you didn't show?" James snarled at him, his fury returning in full force at the idea that anyone wouldn't take Thomas seriously, that they wouldn't know Thomas was utterly sincere through and through.

 "Why else wouldn't I?" John returned just as fiercely. "Do you think that if for one second I had actually thought you were telling the truth, that that invitation was real, that I..." He stopped, swallowing tightly again. "Look, I know that you and Thomas were just wanting a bit of fun. You don't have to pretend this is something more."

James felt the brunt of those words like a knock to the chest. In fact, it was all he could do to steel his expression. To bury his heartache behind those walls he had spent several years building up around him. It didn't make sense, the pain those words caused. He barely knew John, and yet...

James released an even breath as he mulled over his words. "You were never something as simple as a "fun way" pass the evening," he finally grit out. "You were not some spontaneous decision driven by lust and a few too many drinks. We invited you out to dinner, not as some stint, but because we _both_ wanted to get to know you. Because we wanted to see you again."

John shook his head as he took a step backwards, that familiar uncertainty softening his expression. "What... What are you saying?" He scoffed. "That you _like_ me? That the two of you wanted to whisk me away on a proper date?" Another strained laugh. "You don't even know me!"

"I do know you," James countered with a glare. "You're selfish, and you're a coward."

John's expression hardened. "Fuck you."

James moved in closer, causing John to back up abruptly until his back hit the storage room wall. James pinned him there with a hand on either side of John's shoulders. "Now listen here." James breathed. "If you've truly made up your mind that Thomas, that  _i_ would treat you like that, then fine. But I will have one thing from you before we say farewell."

John stared up at him, his eyes blue and bright enough to almost distract James from his anger. "What?"

"You're going to get your coat, and you're going to come with me to that restaurant and you're going to fucking look Thomas in the eye and tell him what you told me." James still couldn't believe that, even though he had heard John say the words with his own lips. He understood not trusting people, but Thomas? How could you ever think Thomas was anything but sincere?

 John stared at him, his eyes widening as he took in James's words. "Back to the restaurant...." He said slowly. "Why would we go back to the restaurant?"

"Because Thomas is still there." James said coolly. "So get your coat and let's go."

John swallowed thickly. Despite the way his pulse could be seen fluttering away in the dip of his collarbone, those startling blue eyes never left his own. They were strangely unguarded in this moment. Wide, and clouded by his surprise and uncertainty. After a moment he shook his head. "I... I don't know. If his temper is anything like yours, I highly doubt he wants to see me right now.."

 “You wouldn’t even know he was angry, unless he wanted you to know, you’d never have an inkling.” James’s voice had cooled to match the chill in the winter night, his fury subsiding again at the thought of Thomas, and his own still achingly painful disappointment.

 When John remained silent, James sighed. “Very well, prove yourself a coward then and don’t come.” He turned towards the door with a final dismissive look at John.

There was the faintest sound as he reached the door, as though John was struggling to find the words or possibly the courage to speak. James hesitated and then turned to look at him, still hopeful in spite of himself.

 John just stood there, gazing at him with that same unguarded expression, the barest hesitant trace of hope there in his own eyes. “It truly mattered to you?” John murmured, watching James carefully, as though he still expected it all to be a joke, some sort of trick at his expense.

"It mattered to both of us," James assured him briskly. Then, after a soft sigh and in a much gentler tone, "It _matters_ to both of us."

John worried his lower between his teeth. Whether or not this was the answer he had been expecting, or even hoping for, he wouldn't be certain. However, after a short pause John finally offered a nod. "Alright, I'll come with you."

 “Thank you.” Was all James allowed himself to say.

He waited while John collected his coat and gave a brief excuse to Max who gave James a sharp look but allowed John to leave in the end. The taxi ride passed in silence. James was still angry at John’s assumptions but he was already beginning to suspect that Thomas would understand them.

He sighed faintly, drumming his fingers on the side of the cab. “I’m sorry for how I spoke to you back there.” If James had so much as blinked he would have missed the way John's mouth curled upwards in a slight smirk. So fleeting was it that James began to wonder if it had been a figment of his imagination. Yet when John chuckled mere moments later he knew it had been real.

"It was rather well-deserved, I think," John assured him. He rested the side of his head against the window and released a soft sigh. "If anyone here warrants an apology it's you and Thomas, certainly not me." He shook his head then. "I always expect the worst in people..."

James's first inclination was to agree with it, and again point out how wrong John had been to do so in this case, but instead he paused to consider why that was. It was then that John's words returned to him. _You have any idea how many assholes have stood me up, pretending to be courteous after fucking me and getting what they wanted?_ Abruptly, James felt a rush of shame at the thought that John had put him and Thomas into that category; not because they didn't deserve the benefit of the doubt, but because John had nothing to go by. Of course he couldn't have known they were any different. 

He sighed softly. "Again, I'm sorry. I should have considered that just because...." he trailed off because it was far too soon to say any of the emotions that growing to know John invoked in him. It was all too soon.

John didn't answer.

 Just as James was about to say more the taxi slowed to a stop. "Guess we're here." He began to reach into the folds of his coat for his wallet when John stopped him.

"Please, let me," John coaxed, not waiting for an answer before handing a few bills over to the cabi. "It's the least I could do, considering..."

James led the way through the restaurant, John keeping pace though he did allow his gaze to wander. When they reached their table Thomas was sharing in a rather animated conversation with one of the wait staff. So much so, in fact, that it took the use of his name to get his attention.

"Thomas."

 It was not James that had spoken it, but John. The man stood beside him still, throat tight and fingers fidgeting in his coat pockets.

Thomas looked up at once. "John." His gaze moved briefly to James, ascertaining something, and then back to John. "It's good to see you again."

 "I'll bring that other bottle, sir." The waiter murmured and retreated, leaving the three of them alone at the table.

 "Won't you sit down?" Thomas gestured to the chair to his left.

“Are you sure you want me to?" John asked quietly, still assessing the mood.

Thomas nodded. "Oh course." Just as James had predicted, there was no trace of anger to be found in Thomas' expression. Instead His features were soft and reserved. if anything, his gaze held a blend of intrigue and concern.

John stole a glance in James' direction before taking a seat. He sat at the very edge of his chair, his hands clasped between his knees as he appeared to struggle with what to say.

Thomas, perceptive as ever, took it upon himself to ease the way. "Would you like a glass of--"

"I came here to apologize," John finally managed, effectively interrupting him. "To you, and to James. I..." Those blue eyes flicked over to James once more before returning to Thomas. He swallowed tightly. "I'm sorry... I didn't think that your invitation was genuine, that _you two_ were genuine, and that was my mistake. I.."

John wet his lips before continuing. "I'm not used to being treated in such a way. Usually such... evenings are followed by a hollow invitation. A gesture that usually ends with me sitting alone, waiting for someone that never had any intention of showing up in the first place."

"I'd like to say I can't imagine who would do something so inconsiderate to you," Thomas said, his voice serious and sincere, a familiar tone that James knew so intimately. "But unfortunately I am well aware that there are assholes in the world who do not care if they treat others poorly. I know it can be difficult to trust people, John, but please consider doing so with James and I." His mouth curved upward in a warm smile. "I promise you, you'll enjoy it."

 "Are you seriously asking _me_ for another chance?" John looked at him incredulously. "After I stood you up?"

 "I accept your apology." Thomas said easily. "James, what about you?"

"I....do as well." James hesitated and John pounced.

"There. You're not sure about this, are you?"

James' mouth twitched. The look in John's eye hurt him more deeply than it should. "Honestly?" he dared after a moment. "No, I'm not. But not for the reason you're likely thinking."

"Then what?" Once more John's expression had melded into that unreadable slate.

James sat back in his chair, studying John in silence, fixing him within his steady gaze. This was another technique he knew he used on his students, usually to great effect. To his credit, John didn't squirm and fidget like most of James's students when faced like this. Instead John waited for whatever James intended to say, his young face unusually serious and reserved.

 "Because I don't want this to simply be some affair." James said abruptly. "And I would understand if someone, if _you_ , had reservations at hearing such a statement so soon after the first time..."

"The first time we fucked?" John inquired.

"Well, yes." James admitted.

John nodded. "You're right." He said after a moment. "Most people would have concerns about hearing that. It's not the usual thing, is it?"

"No." Thomas agreed. "But nonetheless, that is how we both feel."

John licked his lips. "So.....when you say the 'first time' ..."

"Yes?" James asked.

"You really did intend for there to be a second?"

James nodded. "And hopefully several times after that," Thomas added with a sly smirk.

"But you don't want this to be a simple tryst?" John asked carefully, wanting to clarify.

Thomas and James exchanged a look. "That is correct," Thomas offered with a faint nod.

At this John sat back in his seat, clearly needing a moment to compose his thoughts. "You don't even know me..." he finally managed.

"Then let us remedy that, shall we?" The wine had arrived and Thomas took it upon himself to fill each of their glasses. "Keep in mind that this is not something that requires an answer straight away."

"Nor anytime soon," James interjected. "We know it's a lot to consider."

“That’s certainly an understatement.” John murmured. He reached for the glass Thomas offered him and took a careful sip, clearly considering everything they were telling him. “You’re actually serious? The both of you?” His eyes searched their faces, still seeking some kind of proof this was all real. “You really mean this?”

“Yes.” James said steadily. “We do.” He didn’t know what all had happened in John’s past to give him such concern over trusting people...but he wanted to know, He wanted John to know he could trust them.

John released a long breath but otherwise remained silent. Slowly he nursed at his glass of wine, his eyes trained downward as he pondered over their words. Eventually James began to wonder if John were planning to say anything at all.

John took another small sip before setting the glass back down. "Uhm..." His finger tapped against the rim anxiously. After a moment he cleared his throat and tried again. "Why?"

The question was a simple one, yet the meaning behind it could be geared towards a wide array of things. Why were they giving him a second chance? Why did they like him in the first place? Why did they /care/? Despite it all, they each warranted a similar answer.

"Why not?" Thomas' expression remained even as he took a slow drink of his wine.

John chuckled exasperatedly and shook his head. "You have to give me more than that."

"Why not?" James repeated. His thumb fidgeted with the ring on his forefinger as he struggled to find the right words. "There's something here, isn't there?" he asked quietly. "Something that feels natural, that feels... right..?"

 Thomas nodded before reaching over to cover James' hand with his own. "I don't think either of us have felt this kind of pull since--"

"Since?" John interrupted, his eyes moving over both of them warily. "You told me you had never done anything like this before."

"We haven't, not exactly," James assured him. Unfortunately it failed to lessen John's apprehension.

"We've never picked up a stranger and taken them home with us before," Thomas clarified. "But I was married to another before James, and the three of us were very much in love."

“The three of you.” John repeated slowly. “Were all together?”

“Yes.” James was automatically on the defensive even though he had no grounds for thinking John would judge them for the unconventional relationship. He was simply used to people not understanding.

“In love?” John gazed at him, still questioning.

 “Yes.” James said a little less brusquely this times, seeing John wasn’t judging.

“And you’re wanting to try something similar with _me_?” John shook his head helplessly. “I don’t know whether the two of you are insane or I am for considering saying yes...maybe it’s a tossup.”

Apparently Thomas could sense that James was about to offer some retort, for he gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "As I said, there's no need to try and come up with an answer right now, nor should we rush head-on into this. For now, I'm certain that both James and I would be content for the opportunity to get to know you."

After a moment John nodded. “All right. I’d like that.”

 “Good.” Thomas smiled at him, the relief in his expression apparent only to James. “Well, then, shall we order or would you prefer to go home?”

 John raised an eyebrow. “With you, i assume.”

“Yes.” Thomas clarified a tad sheepishly.

John smirked, that familiar mischievous lighting his eyes. But before he could suggest going home with them now his stomach let out a low growl of hunger. Immediately John grabbed at his stomach as if to quiet it.

"I think we have out answer." James could only smile at how the tips of John's ears reddened in embarrassment.

"Fine," John conceded with a gentle yet pointed look. "But only if you both let me pay for dinner." His eyes shifted to Thomas then. "As ways of an apology for tonight."

“If you’re sure.”

 “I’m sure.” John insisted so Thomas simply smiled in agreement.

They ordered and drank their wine, and slowly James felt himself relaxing. All the worry and frustration and yes, anger, faded and he found himself simply enjoying spending time with people he enjoyed being with. Before long they were all rosy-cheeked and chipper, John laughing as Thomas told him how he had first seduced James by quoting from the Bible. A notion he had certainly found preposterous.

 "So," John asked with another bite of his food. "You both know I'm a bartender. What do you two do? Hopefully something a bit more interesting."

James hummed, considering. "I teach history at the university downtown."

 "And I'm a lawyer." Thomas smiled over the brim of his glass.

 "Oh, so I stand corrected," John teased with a wink.

“Hey now,” James protested. “That hardly seems fair.”

 “Mmm, I’m sure your work at least is interesting.” John regarded him over a sip of wine. “All those students trying to get in your good graces, trying to impress you.” He couldn’t hide his satisfaction at James’s faint blush.

“Was that what you were like in college?” Thomas asked curiously. “Trying to impress an attractive professor?”

 “Mm, probably would have been,” John said easily. “If i had made it to college.”

"If?" James asked, suddenly curious.

 John shrugged and picked at his food. "By the time I got to the point where I actually wanted to go, I had had my accident. It was either medical bills or tuition."

There was a brief silence that hovered on the edge of uncomfortable. James shot Thomas a look. He was well aware that many people who didn’t know him well found him aloof or pretentious, and for the most part James wasn’t bothered by that. But he didn’t want John to feel intimidated or uncomfortable being around either of them. A lack of formal education wasn’t that important.

Thomas caught his eye and nodded imperceptibly. They would both tread delicately here.

“Do you ever think about going back?” Thomas inquired.

“No.” John said. “I got my bar tending license. That pays the bills mostly.” He paused and leaned back in his chair, surveying them both. “Is that going to be a problem, dating someone uneducated?”

"Of course not," James argued.

 At this John arched a brow and so James decided to try again. "What I mean to say, is that formal education is of no concern to us."

 "To either of us," Thomas reiterated. "The only reason I did so was due to my father's constant pressuring of me to carry on the family "legacy".”

 "Of lawyering?" John asked with a faint smirk.

"Our family's firm," Thomas clarified, matching his smile. "Little did he know, the moment he died I sold the firm and went on to pursue my own path."

“Good for you.” John raised his wineglass In Thomas’s direction, toasting him. “But what about you, professor? Are you _truly_ sure?” There was a faint smirk lurking at the corners of his mouth now and James knew he was being teased .

Though a rather pointed argument was already forming on James' tongue, he refrained. Instead he allowed John his fun and answered with a chuckle. "I'm certain," he assured him. "Though I am curious... What were you wanting to study, initially?"

John's smile shifted in a way that, if James didn't know any better, he'd think he was embarrassed. "Writing..." he mumbled a bit sheepishly.

"Oh, really?" Thomas asked in delight. "What sort? Are you working on anything right now?"

"I mean...I didn't actually study it." John looked at him, perplexed.

 "That hardly matters." Thomas declared. "You're still a writer even if you took a day's classes in your life."

James had to stifle a chuckle at the look on John's face as Thomas told him this. "He's really just like this." James confirmed when John glanced at him. "So you might as well tell him if you ~are~ working on something or not."

John shifted a bit more in his chair, looking faintly uncomfortable as he clearly debated how to respond. "I mean... I wouldn't exactly say I'm _working_ on anything.. I mean.." John scratched at the back of his head. "I've never written any of it down, at least nothing besides random scribbles."

"Well if you're comfortable sharing, James and I would love to hear about it."

"It's actually based on a recurring dream, actually," John began to explain. "Following the tales of pirates in the West Indies. Uhm-- it's really not that interesting."

“Tell us,” Thomas prompted.

“Well...” John began slowly. “It’s really a collection of short stories involving different characters, all linked together by a common pursuit of one particular treasure.”

 “That sounds fascinating.” Thomas declared. “Why on earth wouldn’t you write that down?”

John flushed a bit, his gaze dropped. “It’s just...” he shrugged and reached for his wine. “You know. One of those things you think about just in your head.”

“How else do you think books happen?” Thomas sounded amused.

At that John looked almost alarmed. “Who said anything about a book?”

"Well, you said you had wanted to go to college to pursue writing..." Thomas reasoned patiently.

"That was several years ago."

"Still. Perhaps one day?"

John chuckled a bit, finally resigning. "Maybe. One day," he agreed.

"First that, and next thing you know, he'll be having you write an outline," James mock whispered to him.

Thomas rolled his eyes at that while John looked to James curiously. "Isn't that more your thing, professor?"

James shrugged. "Write whatever you want, or don't. Just don't expect me to read it unless it's properly punctuated, I beg you."

John smiled wistfully. "I would never dream of it, _Sir._ " John's hand had found his own by now, his fingers sliding over the back of James' hand with purposefully slow, teasing touches. If that touch wasn't enough to send his heart fluttering, that tone certainly was. Only then did John appear to realize what he was doing. He pulled away, his expression a rather endearing combination of embarrassment and shyness. "I think I may need to lay off the wine for the rest of the night."

 “No.” James said, catching John’s hand in his own and holding it reassuringly. “I mean, by all means stop there if you like but don’t...” his hand squeezed John’s under the table. “It’s all right, John.”

John smiled at him, his fingers curling affectionately into James’s.

Thomas eyed the both of them thoughtfully and signaled to the waiter. “I think it’s high time we headed for home.”

It came as no surprise that Thomas and John ended up bickering over who got to pick up the check. James watched with amusement as each argued their case, John that Thomas had already agreed to let him pay, and Thomas saying that he never intended to actually let him. In fact, they were so distracted that James ended up paying himself. He had half suspected such a thing would happen and he wasn't surprised in the least. Leaving a generous tip for the waiter, who after all, had allowed Thomas to keep the table (after being deserted by his dinner partner and then having the actual dinner party pushed back further than the reserved time) and had also been obliging enough to engage him in conversation during his wait for James to return. He stood, making it obvious that the meal was done.

"James." Thomas began immediately.

"We are going home." James stated firmly. "The meal has been paid for. The three of us. Now." His tone brooked no argument whatsoever.

John eyed him and looked to Thomas. "Does he always get like this?"

 "Sometimes." Thomas murmured, rising to his feet. "I quite enjoy it in fact." He leaned over to whisper. "Makes me imagine him during his navy days, if you catch my drift."

John chuckled in response, unable to stop himself.

James simply rolled his eyes. "Whatever you two are whispering about, there will be plenty of time to do that in the cab. Shall we?"

Thomas hummed cheerfully, the man shrugging into his coat before helping John with his. "He can have quite the firm hand," he murmured against his ear, his smile only brightening at the noticeable flush that filled John's cheeks.

 "Thomas--"

 "Don't worry, dear, we're coming along," Thomas assured him. He shot John a wink.

The ride home was a quiet one. Unlike the past two trips, however, there was no trace of uncertainty or discomfort. Or anger, in James' case. Instead it was a comfortable silence. One that was only heightened by the way John leaned against him, their hands touching. James turned his hand over, enclosing John’s fingers within his own, just holding his hand, stroking his thumb over the backs of John’s knuckles. The simple gesture drew John even closer, and when James glanced up, he found John gazing at him silently with those steadfast blue eyes.

“I want to kiss you.” James murmured, his thumb still stroking John’s fingers. The fear that he would never get to do so again had gone, replaced by a fervent desire to hold John close.

John's lips parted faintly at his words. Though his mutual interest was made clear in the haze of his eyes and the upward tilt of his chin, James also saw that nervous glance towards the cab driver. So James refrained, giving John's hand a reassuring squeeze as a silent promise of "soon".

And soon they were home once again. This time, though, James didn't wait. As soon as they were inside, he turned to John and started to repeat what he had said just minutes prior.

Then to his surprise, and delight, John simply leaned up and kissed him, grasping the front of James's jacket as he did so, murmuring softly. "Take me to bed, the both of you. Now."

"You have no idea how much I want to," James breathed against his lips. But John's mouth, just as soft and yielding as it had been that night before, tasted strongly of wine. So strongly that James dare not tread that line of trust they had just begun to forge, yet again. "But you've had a lot to drink tonight," James continued then, doing his best to ignore the way John's entire demeanor seemed to deflate. "And it's late. But tomorrow, when your sober... We can stay in bed all day, if that's what you wish."

"That..." John murmured. "Is very considerate of you, but I am perfectly fine. I assure you." He hesitated then. "Please trust me on this, James."

The quiet entreaty of his name made James desperate to kiss him again. John entirely earnest on this point and James could hardly deny that it was all he wanted too. He looked to Thomas for confirmation that this was all right, and found it in his swift nod. "Very well." James whispered. "I trust you." His lips found John's, John arching up against his mouth with a hungry sigh.

James cradled the back of John's head as they kissed. He massaged the base of his scalp, his fingers tightening in those curls as he licked into his mouth. John only melted into him that much further, the weight of him against his chest awakening something deep within him. That biting desire to taste, to touch. To sink to his knees so that he could finally feel the weight of him on his tongue. And that was just what James did. With a final kiss he drew away, his hands going straight to the front of John's knees as he knelt before him. He paused, his thumb just barely dipping beneath the fabric as he glanced up in silent askance.

"Please." John half groaned as he realized James's intent. He dared raise his fingertips to the curve of James's brow, gently caressing his face. "James, please."

James couldn't help the smile that warmed his features. How pretty those words were falling from John's lips. And yet, in this instance he felt that he was the one that should be begging. For he _needed_ this.

Thomas pressed up against John's back, his hands trailing up his sides before tilting his chin so that they could share a kiss of their own. James hands lingered on John's hip bones as he watched the two of them, enraptured. Only when Thomas broke away to instead hook his chin over John's shoulder did he remember the task at hand.

Unzipping John's jeans, James leaned in to mouth against the front of his briefs, breathing in the scent of him. God, he wanted this. At long last he had John exactly where he wanted him. He licked a thick wet stripe along the growing curve of John's cock, gratified by the sound John made in return. Only then did James tug his briefs down as well, drawing him out. For a moment he simply sat there, gazing at John, half mesmerized by the sight of him like this, Cheeks flushed, lips parted, cock out, waiting for James's mouth. Slowly, teasingly, knowing exactly what he was doing, James lowered his head to slip just the head of John's cock between his lips.

John gave an involuntary shudder and James could only smile around him, his fingers curling around the base to stroke what couldn't comfortably fit into his mouth. With each bob of his head he took John just a little bit deeper. All the while he remained attentive, his ears perked so that he could better hear what made John groan, and what made his breath choke off entirely.

 Soon enough James had developed a steady rhythm, one that was slow and sensuous and caused John to squirm above him. James closed his eyes, letting himself revel in this moment of intimacy. The slide and pulse of John upon his tongue, the heat of him in his mouth, the nearness of his body as James stroked the base of his cock, his other hand trailing over John's hip. He wanted more and more and more, as much as John would give him, James wanted to take it all. At last he opened his eyes and gazed up at John, enjoying the sight above him. John's head rested back against Thomas' shoulder, his eyes shut in bliss and that plump lower lip caught between his teeth. Thomas' face was buried in the wave of those curls as he sucked kisses along the curve of his neck. No doubt there would be deep bruises marring the skin for days to come.

As Thomas worked he had pushed Johns shirt up to get at the supple skin hidden underneath. It allowed James the perfect vantage point to see every twitch, every ripple, every taut pull of muscle as James took him ever closer. His hands moved to massage John’s thighs as he sucked him, caressing the muscles there with his thumbs. He drew off briefly to nuzzle at John’s balls, teasing him there with light licks of his tongue until John whimpered and his hips jerked, cock throbbing hungrily. James had to take him back in his mouth then.

John moaned as James moved faster, practically fucking John’s cock with his mouth. The sounds John made from up above him, the sting of his grip tightening in his hair... It was a heady, absorbing experience. One that made his own cock swell. But right now, at this moment, his focus was entirely on John. The taste of him, the scent of him, the weight of him on his tongue. Fuck, he was mad with it, and only when John came down his throat with a choked-off moan did he feel satisfied. James rested back on his heels and wiped his mouth before gazing upwards. It was easy to ignore the ache in his knees with the sight that greeted him. Of John, panting heavily as he leaned back into Thomas' embrace.

“Fucking hell, you’re good at that.” John gasped. He turned to press another kiss to Thomas’s mouth before sliding to the floor in front of James. Whatever original embarrassment John had had regarding his leg around them had clearly faded.

John knelt there in front of James, gazing at him with a soft wordless expression. “Kiss me.” John prompted at last. “Just kiss me.”

It wasn't necessary for John to have asked twice. The words had scarcely even left his lips before James surged foreword to capture them with his own. Their teeth knocked together in a way that was almost painful yet neither seemed to mind. Desire thrummed through James as they knelt there, and then he closed his eyes as they kissed, just simply taking in the simple essence of _kissing_ John. The velvet curl of his tongue and the soft press of his lips, the barely murmured moan from low in John's throat as his hand reached up to grip at James's collar, a groan that came, James knew, as John tasted himself on James's tongue.

When James finally pulled away it was to the feeling of Thomas' fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. That grip tightened just enough for James to hum in appreciation. "I'd suggest John return the favor," Thomas began coyly, "But I can see now that there's no need."

John blinked up at him almost lazily before glancing downward to see what he was referring to. Sure enough, the front of James' pants were damp with that telling stain. A slow smirk warmed John's features as he draped his arms over James' shoulders. "Mm... That good, huh?" he couldn't help but ask.

James decided against answering that smug look directly; John certainly didn’t need anything to make him any cockier. Instead he simply dropped a light kiss on John’s mouth, still so close in proximity and irresistibly tempting. “Shut up.” He said gently before raising his gaze to Thomas. “What about you?”

Thomas hummed, considering. "I can't decide," he finally managed. "Between using that skilled mouth myself, or showing John just how beautiful you are spread open on my cock... I just can't decide."

 “That second option.” John suggested. “If you please. I’d like to see that.”

James rose to his feet, tugging John up with him, holding him lightly by the arms to steady him without feeling like he was controlling his movements. “I think I’d like that too,” he told Thomas with a meaningful look.Thomas smiled in that warm, clever way he so often did before guiding James closer for a kiss. It was a fleeting thing, those lips touching his own for just a few moments before Thomas took both their hands and led them upstairs.

Once in the bedroom, the three of them wasted little time discarding unwanted and unnecessary clothes as quickly as possible. James was gratified to see that none of the hesitancy or uncertainty that been there during the first night John had spent with them was present tonight. Instead he seemed eager to see Thomas make good on his promise to show him just how good James really looked spread out like that. James watched as Thomas reached out to catch John by the wrist, drawing him for a knee-trembling kiss. When Thomas finally released him, James was amused to see the slightly dazed expression in his eyes.

“There.” Thomas murmured. “Now sit back and watch.”

John practically stumbled over his feet as he moved back to sit at the edge of the bed. His eyes were hungry, the length between his legs already twitching with renewed interest as his gaze raked over them both. In fact, it was enough to make him roll his eyes. However brief, it didn't escape Thomas' notice.

"Something wrong, my love?" Thomas asked, the question offered directly into his ear as Thomas had snuck up behind him, encircling his chest with those strong arms.

"Vigor is wasted on the youth," James noted simply, tilting his head in the direction of John's hardening cock. The young man only smiled wickedly in response.

Thomas' breath huffed out against his ear as he chuckled. "We shall see." He directed his attention towards John then, even as his hands moved downward to explore over James' thighs, completely ignoring the sensitive area between his legs. "Since James got to decide how I fucked you," Thomas began, sucking a piercing earlobe into his mouth, "I now offer you the same question: How do you want him?"

John licked his lips, taking his time as he considered all the delightful possibilities of this. At last, just when James was about to tell him to 'make up your fucking mind already,' nearly driven wild by Thomas’s teasing, John simply said, “I want to see him ride your cock.”

“Excellent choice.” Thomas purred and kissed James’s ear. “You heard him, my love.”

James felt the heat in his cheeks and the telltale pull of desire in his gut. Truthfully, that was his favorite way to take Thomas' cock. He could control the speed and the rhythm to in turn drive Thomas wild. And all the while those blue eyes would be trained solely on him. Only this time there would be too pairs. James went about finding the lube while Thomas splayed himself out on the bed for all to see. His head was nearest John, and the thought of being able to hold that gaze while he fucked himself sent his cock twitching against his abdomen. James moved to straddle Thomas' waist, grinding their cocks together once, twice, being lifting himself onto his knees so that he could prepare himself.

 “I love watching James like this.” Thomas rested an arm behind his head, his eyes dancing over to make sure that John’s attention was where it should be, and found it fixed on James as he slid his slicked fingertips between his own legs. “I see you do too.”

“Who wouldn’t?” John murmured, his gaze fully focused on James’s movements. “Your...your wife?” There was a hesitancy again to his voice as though he wasn’t sure he was allowed to ask. “Did she like seeing the two of you like this?”

Though James paused briefly at the mention of Miranda, Thomas didn't seem to mind the question in the slightest. Instead he hummed, his expression one of fondness as he gave James' thigh an affectionate squeeze. "Oh yes... very much. Just as I enjoyed watching the two of them."

James swallowed thickly, trying to ignore their words and instead focus on the movement of his fingers, working himself open. "You two talk too much," he huffed out, his eyes shutting as he brushed up against that bundle of nerves.

 “Does it bother you?” John asked quietly, his gaze moving to study James’s face intently, concerned he had trespassed too far for once.

James paused, thinking not just of that ~ how much John already fit with them ~ but how much he would have gotten along with Miranda. God, he missed her. There was another reassuring press of Thomas’s fingers, a small reminder that he was not alone in this. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes to meet John’s gaze. “

No.” James finally answered. “It doesn’t bother me.” He paused and then smiled because he couldn’t resist telling John. “Miranda would have liked you.”

If he didn't know any better, he would have thought the sentiment caused John's cheeks to flush. Then again, he was certain of it when Thomas agreed with him not seconds later. "I second that." Thomas tipped his head back so that he could look at John. "I'm sure the two of you would have shared many colorful conversations together." Even as he spoke he caressed James' thigh comfortingly. He knew that speaking of her pained him deeply, even now.

John ducked his head so that his curls fell forward, shielding his face. "You can't possibly know that."

"We can have a pretty reasonable idea." James said obstinately. He slipped his fingers free and looked down at Thomas with amused eyes.

Thomas grinned and slid his hands further up to rest on James's hips. "John, are you watching?"

John's head jerked upwards, as if he were just now remembering where they were and what they were doing. "Yes," he managed.

James waited just a few moments to be sure that John was here with them, and that he too was allowing himself to enjoy the present company, before going any further. Satisfied, he wet his fingers with more slick before giving Thomas long, purposeful strokes from root to tip. Those fingers pressed harder into his hips as he aligned himself with Thomas' cock, nudging the swollen head against his entrance before sinking down. He went slowly, his breath punching from his lungs at the burning stretch of it, even now.

James let out a breathless moan as he sank deeper upon Thomas's cock. Christ, this felt good. And somehow knowing John was watching every second of this, simply made it hotter. Thomas's fingers held him as he moved, slowly, taking his time.

James always set such a pace when he was on top like this, straddling Thomas' thighs. He loved watching the man gradually become undone beneath him, driven wild by his torturously slow yet steady pace. The way Thomas' lips would part, his brows knitting together as he shifted restlessly beneath him, hips bucking upwards, until he finally broke. And then when he finally did, more often then naught he flipped James onto his stomach and fucked him fast and hard, taking for himself what had been his all along.

 "Ah... Fuck," James grit out. As if these heated thoughts weren't enough, he had just happened to rock down /just so/, the swollen head of Thomas' cock brushing against that spot that made his toes curl and his cock jump.

Tonight James kept a steady pace astride Thomas's cock, the heat rising within him as he moved. The heaviness of his own arousal swelled within him, Thomas gazing up at him with open want and John, oh fuck, the way John was looking at him, hunger in his eyes. Need. That was it. James's lips parted as he reached down to stroke his own cock.

 "Thomas." He whispered, his voice breathless with need.

"What do you need my love?" James gasped as Thomas thrust upward, hitting that spot again. "Tell me what you need."

"I need--" The rest of James' words caught in his throat. Not because of how deliciously Thomas moved beneath him, feet planted against the bedding so that he could get the leverage necessary to fuck him harder, deeper, but because of John. Those eyes were still locked on him, only now he had allowed his hand to slip between his legs to stroke his own length. James watched him, watched those thick fingers grip his length with each upward jerk of his hand.

Finally James managed to regain his voice. "I need that cock in my throat." John, Thomas, he wanted them both. _Needed_ them both.

Thomas raised his head to look pointedly at John. "You heard him."

John opened his mouth and James immediately said, "Yes, I'm sure," certain that that was the question to be voiced upon John's lips. The brief flush in John's cheek assured him he was right. It was half astonishing to James how well he knew John's mind already, and half simple proof that this was the right step forward. To his credit John wasted no further time joining them on the bed.

Thomas' length slipped from him briefly as James moved off his lap, knees weak and thigh muscles burning, to instead get down on all fours. He felt Thomas' hands run down his sides in a gentle caress before burying himself deep once more. He gasped, fingers clutching the bedsheets as Thomas' hand pressed to the center of his back, keeping him steady. Meanwhile John situated himself in front of him, hand still on his cock and a lingering trace of uncertainty within that anticipating gaze.

James licked his lips and settled his gaze upon John's face, steadying him in turn. "I want to suck your cock."

John drew in a deep breath. "It's yours."

It was obvious it was true, everything within him - the way his body leaned towards James, offering himself, was James's for the taking. The rush of emotion that shot through James was sharp and unexpected. Desire was to be expected yes, but this....affection? Yes, affection that he experienced when he had John right here for the taking, offering himself. He closed his eyes and lowered his head to take John in his mouth, trying to collect himself.

James took him deeper inch by inch, his eyes falling shut as he once again reveled at having that heavy weight on his tongue. The taste of him, the feel of him, stretching his mouth wider as those fingers tangled into his hair and pulled him closer... It was something he would never tire of. James breathed in through his nose, hallowing his cheeks and slacking his jaw as John began to fuck his throat, just as he had wanted. Being caught between the two of them like this, Thomas fucking him hard while John used his mouth... It was a perfect torture. And all he could do was give into it.

A perfect torture of a perfect rhythm emerged between the three of them and James let himself fall into it readily. John's fingers tightened with a moan as he slid his tongue along John's length. There was no way explain how good this felt to someone who didn't understand how it felt to be in this position. James slid his tongue further, urging John to surrender. From Thomas's grip on his hips he knew that he was close and the idea of them coming simultaneously within him was suddenly too appealing to resist.

John groaned above him, the grip on his hair tightening as those hips bucked forward of their own volition. James could only moan appreciatively around him, encouraging the man the only way he could in this moment. With the next thrust John hit the back of his throat, cutting off his air, and James swallowed down around him. That was the last push John needed, it seemed, for the next moment he was coming down his throat.

Almost at the exact same moment James pushed back against Thomas, who needed no further encouragement. His thrusts sped up as his fingers dug into James's hips and the sound that issued from James's mouth, pure sweet satisfaction, at Thomas finishing inside him, while John's cock was still within his mouth.

The moment John withdrew James sank down to his elbows, his chest heaving and body shuddering as he fought to regain his breath.

 Thomas' fingers stroked over his hips and thighs, his lips leading a trail of down along his spine. "So amazing, the both of you," Thomas purred against his skin. His hand reached around him then, gripping James in his fist and stripping his cock until he too came over those fingers. He slipped from James then, leaning down to press a final kiss on James’s thigh before stretching out alongside him. “I could sleep for a hundred years.”

“ _You_ could.” James returned affectionately. He too was pleasantly and contentedly exhausted but still far too awake to sleep yet. He turned his head and reached for John. John kissed him without speaking, without reassurances this time as though they had done this hundred times before and would do so again.

"What can I say?" Thomas asked with a sigh, his arm extending behind James' head. "It's exhausting being the one doing all the work."

James scowled and elbowed him in the ribs while John just laughed.

After a moment John settled down against James' side, a soft sigh passing his lips as Thomas' fingers combed through his hair. "Thank you for coming down to the bar and yelling at me," he hummed.

Thomas' hand stilled. "You _yelled_ at him?" he asked, his tone incredulous.

“I thought he had blown us off.” James said, his tone was just a tad defensive. Now that he knew how John had felt he felt guilty about that but at the same time when he thought about how disappointed Thomas had been, how he had been...the frustration threatened to return.

 “And then you blew me so we’re even.” John yawned slightly, pressing his cheek into the pillow with a sigh.

“That’s not how that works.” James said exasperatedly, but amused at the same time.

 “Isn’t it?” John opened an eye, grinning up at him.

Though James sighed, he couldn't help the smile that teased at the edge of his lips.

"All jokes aside, I _am_ sorry," John continued then. He shifted a bit closer, his good leg brushing against James as he peered up at him. Even if he couldn't discern the sincerity that clung to his tone, it was right there in his eyes. John's apology was genuine, his regret was genuine, and it was forgiven with a press of his lips.

Thomas yawned again. “I for one, am ready for sleep.” He leaned over and kissed James. And then did the same to John. “John, is there a particular time you need coffee in the morning?”

John paused for a moment, considering. "I think I'm the one who should be asking the two of you that question," he finally relented. "For breakfast, too. It's the least I can do."

Thomas merely chuckled. “The coffeemaker is an ancient cantankerous beast who must be won over slowly. We’ll save your charms to use on it another day.”

 “The coffeemaker is fine.” James muttered under his breath.

 Thomas merely rolled his eyes with a grin at John. “Not the only cantankerous beast.” He mouthed and John bit back his chuckle.

"Another day, then," John agreed. A faint smile tugged at the edge of his lips, one that Thomas easily returned.

 And so too would have James, he was certain, if not for the way he had buried his face against the pillow. It was a cue John took without complaint. After all, he was tired as well. So without another word he climbed over James' form, his prosthetic having been abandoned on the floor a while ago, and situated himself between the two of them.

James reached out and wrapped an arm around John’s waist, drawing close against him. He pressed a soft kiss to John’s hairs, his fingers gently affectionate on his waist. Thomas shifted closer so that he too could link an arm around John's middle. It didn't take long for his other hand to find James', and when it did their fingers intertwined, both hands resting atop John's hip. And it was in that tender embrace that the three of them gradually drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Flint and Silver share a balcany, cigarettes, and a good old fashioned heart to heart.

James wasn't certain what time it was when he awoke. It was late, that much he was certain of based on the darkness that filled the room. He shifted against the mattress, a yawn leaving his lips as he reached out to pull John closer, only to find that he was missing. James blinked, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as he felt over the covers. They were still slightly warm to the touch, suggesting that wherever John may have gone, he likely wasn't far.

James features softened as he took in Thomas' sleeping form, just out of reach. He always slept so peacefully, and he found that content expression softening his own features. Leaning over, he pressed a kiss to Thomas' temple before shuffling out of bed. Though he doubted John would take off after the night that they had all just shared, he had to be certain. Otherwise that unease gnawing away at his gut would never let him fall back asleep.

He padded softly out into the hallway and then hesitated. Some instinct told him that John hadn’t left. The question then was, _where would he go?_ The answer was absurdly simple. James simply thought of where he chose to go whenever he wanted to be alone.

At the end of the hall was the guest bedroom they had converted into a library/study. There was a small balcony off it that overlooked the back garden. And there he found John, wrapped in his coat, smoking absently as he gazed out at the darkness. He looked up at the sound of James’s footsteps.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”

James shook his head. “Do you want company? Or would you prefer to be alone?”

The edge of John's mouth lifted upwards in a smile. Though it was just barely noticeable beneath the warm glow of the moon, it was brilliant just the same.

"I don't think I could ever turn down your company," John confessed with a chuckle.

James took the vague invitation for what it was and stepped out onto the balcony. Fortunately the clothes he had haphazardly pulled on, as well as his robe, proved adequate enough to guard him from the winter chill. Still, he pulled his robe more tightly around himself all the same.

"Want a cigarette?" John asked then, holding out a pack of Newports.

James chuckled as he accepted one. "Sure, just don't tell Thomas. He says if I die before him, he'll kill me."

“I bet you’d make an annoying ghost.” John mused.

James stared at him over the cigarette he was lighting. “How did you know that’s what I always tell him? _If I go before you, I’ll just haunt you for eternity."_

John chuckled. “Just a hunch.” For a few moments they stood there in silence, smoking in the bright winter night. Soon, however, John began to speak once more. “About before..”

James watched him over the cigarette, waiting patiently.

"When I said that I didn't believe you and Thomas, that your interest in seeing me again was genuine..." John trailed off, wetting hus lips before trying once more. "I didn't.. I wasn't--

James felt himself bristle slightly. "You were lying?"

"No," John shot out. "No, I wasn't lying. I just..." A sigh. "There's more to it than that."

James waited for John to keep speaking but the silence dragged on, and what's more he couldn’t read John’s expression in the dark.

James took a deep breath and released it, reminding himself of all his earlier doubts in the beginning of his relationship with the Hamiltons. It had felt too good to be true and he had doubted everything so much. That they were truly interested in him, that they wouldn’t tire of him. That they even wanted him at all. None of it had been either Thomas or Miranda’s doubts, simply own insecurities and fears at work.

“Will you tell me?” He asked softly.

Even in the darkness it was apparent just how much John was warring with himself. He saw the way his fingers fidgeted, tapping the ash from the end of the cigarette before nervously wringing the inside of his wrist. Finally he managed a nod.

"I wasn't lying when I said I had been stood up before," John began. "More often than naught, that's just how these types of... situations happened to pan out." He shrugged then. "It stung, but I got used to it. I even started to expect it. Then you two..."

James remained quiet, patient as he watched the man take another drag of his cigarette.

"I don't know," John admitted then. "I wasn't sure what to think of your invitation. I had hoped that it was genuine, even if past experience told me otherwise. But... That wasn't why I didn't show up. Well, not exactly, at least..."

James couldn’t explain the reason why his mouth felt too dry, his pulse a little too quick.

“Why exactly, then?” Perhaps he was pushing the matter. Perhaps Thomas would have encouraged him to proceed more cautiously, but then again Thomas was often bolder in matters of the heart. They had all taken their own risks --romantically speaking-- in the past, displaying gestures to one another that made James smile fondly at the memory.

He wanted to take a risk here and now. He wanted to know John.

John’s mouth curved slightly in an expression James couldn’t quite identify in the winter dark.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

James drew closer, stubbing his cigarette out in the light snow. “Yes.”

John blinked up at him, his eyes reflecting the moonlight as they moved over his expression, searching. After a moment he swallowed tightly, and James would only watch the way his Adam's apple bobbed beneath the collar of his coat.

"Honestly...?" John began, his tone soft as he tread carefully with his words. "I was afraid. Not just of the hurt that would result if you and Thomas were just like everyone else... But what it would mean if you weren't."

James held his initial urge to speak, thinking again on his own mind during those earlier days. It was rational to be afraid; it made sense even if his own instincts were to brush those same fears aside.

“Is it so terrifying then, the possibility of someone wanting to know you? To have you as a presence in their life?”

John didn’t respond immediately, his eyes on the dark garden below them.

James hesitated and then reached his hand out to place it over John’s, letting his touch warm him.

Just as he had done in the cab, John turned his palm upwards so that their fingers could intertwine. He tightened his grip just so, proving to James that he appreciated the gesture even though his gaze was still downcast.

"It can be," John murmured. His thumb moved over the back of James' hand as he appeared to mull over his next words. "The last time I was in a relationship... Well. Let's just say it didn't end on a positive note."

“I’m truly sorry.” James offered after a moment. “But please...allow me, allow Thomas a chance to simply...” his fingers tightened their caress of John’s fingers. “Get to know you. While there’s no guarantee of the future or -“

“I’m not asking for a guarantee.” John said softly, smiling slightly. “I’m just...” He sighed and looked down at their hands. “It’s just going to take some time, that’s all.”

“We have time.” James said and brought John’s hand up to kiss it gently.

John's cheeks darkened noticeably beneath that tender touch. It only caused James' mouth to curl upwards in a smile, even as his lips continued to trace over his knuckles. It seemed that John wasn't familiar with such intimate displays of affection, and by God was James aching to make up for it. So much so that he leaned closer, his hands moving to cup John’s face, gazing into his eyes before kissing him.

It was impossible to not want to kiss John; James was aware of the desire all the time, even when he was involved in the activity itself, he still wanted to kiss John ~more~ it was an insatiable yearning that could only be filled by making the most of each and every kiss he was lucky enough to get from John.

John must've dropped his cigarette for both those hands clutched at him now. They clung to the front of James' robe, drawing him closer as their lips parted, giving way to teeth and tongue.

Though John tasted of cigarettes and wine, James couldn't find it in himself to mind. All he could focus on was the trace of John's lips and the press of his tongue. That, and they were their foreheads touched even after they had drawn apart.

James drew in a slow even breath and then pressed a kiss to John’s forehead. “I could kiss you forever.” He murmured.

John smothered his laugh into James’s shoulder.

“What?”

John just shook his head, smiling up at him. “Saying things like that. You just do it, don’t you?”

James brought his knuckles up brush along the curve of John’s cheek. “I don’t take forever lightly. But I’m not afraid to see where it goes either.”

John's smile widened, that same light meeting his eyes as he peered up at him still. "Yeah," he murmured after a moment, giving a faint tug at the front of his robe. "Me either."

That gaze dropped down to James' lips then. Tippinng his chin upwards, he captured James' lips in yet another kiss. It was soft and sweet and slow. The kind of thing that sent James moving forward, seeking more, the moment John broke away.

"Come on," John grinned up at him, tugging at him a bit. "Before you catch cold."

“You’re warming me up quite nicely.” James murmured, sliding his fingers through John’s curls as he pressed against him.

“There’s a nice warm bed inside.” John chuckled, but his hand drifted mischievously over the front of James’s pajamas trousers.

James sucked in a breath. “There’s a wall just inside the study there, if it comes to that.”

John hummed, the sound almost predatorial with the way it reverberated from deep within his chest. Still he pressed himself closer, his hips swaying slightly.

"And Thomas wouldn't mind you keeping me to yourself?" John purred the words into his ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shudder down James' spine.

“On the contrary, he’d thoroughly approve.” James couldn’t wait any longer. Tugging John inside (where he had to admit it was warmer) he pressed him up against the study wall, his whole body leaning into the invitation of John’s hips

Now he kissed John like he was drowning with desire, like a sailor desperate to return to the call of the sea. His hands fit naturally on John’s hips, as his mouth sought to express just how glad he was that John had stayed the night after all.

James couldn't help but revel in the way those lips parted so effortlessly beneath his own. John's hands cradled the side of his face, his thumbs tracing along his jaw as their kiss gave way to teeth and tongue. The way that beard caught against his own, chaffing his skin until it burned, was maddening.

John’s breath came quicker as he hardened against James, unable to hide his arousal in such a close proximity.

“What do you want?” James whispered. He knew what he wanted, to taste every inch of John, to memorize his body and know it by heart.

John licked his lips, gazing up at him. “You.”

James couldn’t help rolling his eyes, causing them both to chuckle quietly. “How specifically?” He reached down to slip a hand under John’s shirt, his blunt nails teasing John’s skin as he waited for an answer.

John's eyes fell shut briefly beneath that wandering touch. James watched the way that Adams apple bobbed as he seemed to mull over his answer. After all, there was a bounty of possible scenarios to choose from.

Finally John seemed to arrive at a conclusion. At least, that's what James gathered from the smirk that curled at the eddhed of those pert lips.

"Well," John began slowly, winding his arms up around James neck. "I'd point out that you havnt yet had the pleasure of fucking me, but I'm afraid that amending that right now would wake Thomas. Besides..." John nipped at his lower lip. "I want us to share that together."

"Then what do you suggest?" James asked against his lips.

John grinned at him and then slowly, sinuously slid down Jame's body.

"What are you...." James's words drifted away as John siimply drew him out of his pajamas.

"I truly am sorry for before." John whispered and licked the head of his cock, a delicate, tender apology of his tongue.

James breathed out through his nose, his hand finding the back of John's neck as he took him between his lips. Already he could feel himself hardening beneath his touch.

"You don't need to keep apologizing," James managed. He caught a curl around his thumb.

John drew off long enough to whisper “I know.” He mouthed a kiss against James’s thigh. “I do know this, but just let me...let me have this.” His lips hovered above James’s cock, waiting before he touched him again.

James couldn't find it in himself to argue any further. He couldn't, not when those petal lips were just barely ghosting against the tip of his cock. He felt every breath as it puffed out against his skin, making his cock twitch upwards. His hand curled lightly in John’s hair, gently stroking his scalp. The night was quiet around them, only the sounds of his own breath and the soft noises of John breaking the silence. Of John, slowly, agonizingly, taking his damn time. His lips had barely touched him and James was already ready.

John murmured another soft indescribable sound that James knew he would spend the moments before drifting off to sleep trying to categorize and failing.

 

 

“So pretty.” John whispered lovingly, licking a delicate line along the side of his cock.

James stifled a snort. “Did you really just call my cock pretty?”

“Mm.” John nodded before tracing another trail along James’s sensitive flesh with his tongue. “I did.”

“You’re ridiculous.” James muttered, but his fingers rubbed affectionately along the back of John’s head.

"You like it," Silver argued coyly.

James didn't even need to squint against the darkness to know that John was smiling as he spoke. He could feel it, that upward curl of his lips as he mouthed over the head. By now he was so hard that he ached with it. John was the perfect tease, truly; the touch of his lips and the trace of his tonuge just enough to send his cock twitching for more.

John must have caught on to his impatience, for just as he were about to voice his complaints, John leaned foward on his knees, a faint chuckle passing his lips before finally, FINALLY, taking him into his mouth.

James truly gasped then at the heat enveloping his cock overwhelmed him. He knew he hadn't known John for that long, hardly any length of time really, but the intimacy between them, every time they touched, every time John smiled at him, nearly stole his breath away and now...here, in this dark room with John's tongue working its delightful magic upon him, he knew he was lost. And with the way John pressed forward now, those hands settling atop his hips so gently, fingers seeking and mouth sighing around him, he sensed that John was, too.

James let his head hang back, his tongue reaching out to wet his bottom lip as he allowed his mind to settle. Then, perhaps, he could simply _feel._

John’s fingers gripped him harder, anchoring him in place against the wall. James’s fingers were lost in his curls. John’s tongue urged him closer and closer, drawing it out so tantalizingly that James’s was ready to scream and wake Thomas.

Just as James began to feel himself reaching that precipice, his stomach tightening and his heart practicallyly leaping from his throat, he sought to cut it short. His fingers grabbed at Silver's hair, tightening around his curls as he tugged himself free of that tortuously skilled mouth.

A whine of protest left Silver's throat as he sat back on his heels, a trail of spit wetting down his chin. Immediately those eyes snapped upwards, bright and heady, yet wild with surprise. And just as Silver was about to voice his annoyance, Flint managed to speak first, albeit a bit breahtlessly.

"Unzip your pants."

Silver’s eyes darkened further. Licking his lips, he. Dropping his right hand, (his left he kept firmly wrapped around Flint’s length, unwilling to let go even for a second) he managed to get his pants open. Once they were, he looked up at Flint with an expectant expression.

“Now what?”

James felt the knot within his chest tighten at those words. Not only at the question itself, but the implication that John was so eager to acquiesce.

"Take your cock out," James murmured. His thumb ran slowly over John's lower lip, that grip around his heart tightening further at the way John's eyes fluttered shut at his touch.

John made a sound barely inecipherable as his breath warmed James's thumb. Slowly, achingly slowly even though his eagerness was plain to see, he drew his cock out and waited still for James.

James groaned, pressing his thumb along the plump curve of John's lower lip. "Touch yourself."

"Only if I can still touch you." John bargained boldly back.

 

 

James felt the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, faint yet there all the same. "Are you certain you can handle both?"

In ways of an answer John learned forward, sliding the tip of James' cock over his tongue as he went back to stroking along the length of him. Meanwhile that free hand slipped between his legs to tend to his own aching erection.

James hummed, the sound lost on a breathy exhale as he watched, enraptured. He caught that dark mop of curls, not gripping them like before, but scooping them across his shoulder to ensure himself a better view.

“Slower,” he whispered. John murmured something around his cock and he grinned. Possibly it was torture yes, but could he truly be blamed for wanting this to last?

Seeing John like this was an entrancing sight. He kept hold of James as he stroked himself but his tongue slowed to a teasing, slow licking motion that made James groan.

“You’re always like this, aren’t you?”

“You said slower.” John whispered, kissing his way across the underside of his shaft.

James exhaled slowly through his nose. Still, a small smirk teased at the corner of his mouth at the truth of it. Or rather, the irony.

"True," James managed, moving the pad of his thumb moving over that small notch at the top of John's spine. "But that's.. mmh-- Thate because I want to see.. "

John’s grin just widened. “I suppose I can understand that.” His thumb stroked idly along James’s thigh, before lowering his mouth once more.

His handncircled his own cock, moving fully from the base and then back to the head, letting James watch as he timed his strokes with the motion of his mouth as he sucked James. Slowly at first, but then growing more freshly as though he couldn’t contain his need.

James leaned back against the desk. He allowed his eyes to fall shut, a soft moan slipping past his lips as John worked him over so expertly. His mouth, his hands... he was practically drunk with it.

"Fuck, John..." James murmured. His eyes opened just a crack, taking in the sight of John on his knees, his lips stretched around his cock, his fist moving furiiously between his thighs.

John murmured something soft and coaxing around him, his hands urging James closer and closer to completion no matter how much he wanted to stave it off.

John pulled off just enough to whisper “James, come for me, please.”

And this time James let himself obey the quiet hunger in John’s voice, the want there so open and earnest and vulnerable. It was enough to make the hand settled at the base of John's neck tighten its grip. Combined with that tantalizing touch...

"John--" The name had just barely left James' tongue before he found himself obeying that gentle plea. His eyes squeezed shut, his hands burying themselves in John's curls as he came, spilling himself over John's awaiting tongue and down his chin.

John surged forward on his knees, doing his best to capture it all. His own orgasm followed as he held James there in his mouth, not letting him go until his hand stilled. Slowly he drew off, sitting back on his heels to look up at James with a slightly dazed but satisfied expression.

James panted, his hold on Johns curtis gradually lessening as managed to catch hold of his breath. As soon as he was able to regain his senses he tugged upwards, coaxing John to his feet only to press him back against the wall, his lips capturing John's in a searing kiss.

 

 

John sighed softly against James’s lips, a small sound of desire and contentment that made James feel ridiculously pleased with himself for eliciting such a sound from him.

“Now,” James said at last. “Are you ready to come back to bed?”

John stifled his chuckle. “Yes.” He whispered.

“Good.”

He followed James back down the hall to the bedroom where Thomas still slept soundly.

It was enough to make them both smile warmly at the sight. The covers were pulled aside and, moving carefully as to not disturb him, John removed his prosthetic before climbing back into bed. James followed suit, his arms winding around John's waist, holding him snug, his face buried against the crook of his shoulder.

John couldn't help the way his skin flushed beneath such a tender embrace, the smile upon his lips only spreading as Thomas shifted in his sleep, nonsensical words falling from his lips as he too drew closer.

John closed his eyes as James's arms held him, wondering if this sort of happiness could ever truly last, but even if it was only temporary his heart had already decided. He would stay as long as they wanted him.


End file.
